


Reflections and Dates

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: M/M, winter 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“It’s myoelectric.” He catches Makoto’s blank expression and adds, “Controlled by signals generated naturally by muscles in my residual limb.”Nagito casts his gaze downward and surveys his hand, his lips faintly curved.“It still needs power from a battery but fortunately for us, I can plug a cord into it and charge it overnight,” says Nagito. “Handy, huh?”“Y-Yeah,” says Makoto, not laughing at the pun.'Komaeda has a request for Naegi.
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	Reflections and Dates

A white ellipsis pulses across the middle of the computer screen like fingers drumming against a desk, one after the other. In Nagito’s case, more like the fingers on his original hand, because the ring and pinky fingers on his prosthetic left hand always passively follow the rest of his fingers. While he waits, sitting at his desk, he can’t hear anyone or anything beyond his cabin walls other than the purr of the ocean.

It’s peaceful.

The flashing dots on the screen vanish with a plop and a face appears in the virtual window. At first, it’s slightly pixelated, just for a few seconds, but even before it sharpens, Nagito already knows who it is he stares at.

“Good evening, Naegi-kun,” chirps Nagito.

Makoto pushes out a small smile. His bedroom provides a plain, off-white backdrop, with a collage of blurred faces on the wall some distance behind him. A line of tinsel hangs over the photos. Green.

Nagito focuses on just Makoto, though.

“Good evening,” Makoto says back, just as politely.

A wider grin spreads across Nagito’s face. He slouches forward, propping his chin on his prosthetic hand. His other hand offers a quick, friendly wave.

They first met when Makoto enrolled at Hope’s Peak a year after Nagito. A member of the teaching faculty led the new students through a courtyard, taking them to their dorm building. Nagito recalls being stood near a fountain when he spotted Makoto, with his shock of brown hair and darting, curious eyes. He recognised Makoto from an archived newspaper in the library, in a feel-good article about an injured crane. Dedicated message boards about the new students turned up barely any information on Makoto, so Nagito had been required to do a fair amount of digging to find anything out prior to Makoto’s arrival.

Like Nagito, Makoto was there due to winning a lottery. At the time, Nagito wondered if Makoto’s luck shunted him about like a metallic ball in a pinball machine, like it did with Nagito, or if he was just an ordinary person.

Nagito’s gaze had lingered on Makoto.

It stays on him now.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” says Nagito evenly.

Back when they first met all those years ago, Makoto had been colourful. Now he seems washed out. Tired. He grew up. Or maybe it’s just the poor lighting in the room. The quality of the webcam. Maybe it isn’t.

Makoto stares back at him.

“Yeah, it has been,” says Makoto.

Nagito lifts his head and flourishes his prosthetic hand. “You know, having this robotic hand has actually given me some supercomputer abilities. Since we last saw each other, it has been precisely seventy days, two hours, fifty three minutes, twenty...” 

But then Nagito can’t keep it up anymore and he cracks up laughing at the shock on Makoto’s face.

“I’m joking, Naegi-kun!”

“Oh!” Makoto jerks his head back.

Honestly, Makoto looks ridiculous, but Nagito can’t avert his eyes from the man ogling him, wearing a suit slightly too big for himself. Nagito’s heart gives a leap and his grin twists into a smirk as he straightens. He lowers his hands to the desk. 

“I’m not joking about how long it has been, though,” says Nagito, only a bit more serious now. “But I know because I’m on a computer and can calculate it on the internet.”

Makoto cringes. “O-Of course.”

Nagito’s head tilts to one side. He shows more teeth.

“I apologise if I freaked you out,” Nagito says cheerfully. Makoto sits up.

“It’s fine,” replies Makoto with a shaky smile, showing his palms, and he glances at Nagito’s hand. “So, uh, how’s it going? Sorry, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk before you all had to leave.”

“Yeah, that was a downer. But other than that, I’m pretty good, thanks! Do you like my new hand?” Nagito demonstrates, opening then closing a fist. Then, when he doesn’t do anything to it, it shifts into a natural position. “I don’t expect any less from a former Super High School Level mechanic, but it really is remarkable, isn’t it? Technology can sure be scary, but Souda-kun explained to me how it works.”

Makoto leans in. “It must be complicated.”

“It’s myoelectric.” He catches Makoto’s blank expression and adds, “Controlled by signals generated naturally by muscles in my residual limb.”

Nagito casts his gaze downward and surveys his hand, his lips faintly curved. 

“It still needs power from a battery but fortunately for us, I can plug a cord into it and charge it overnight,” says Nagito. “Handy, huh?”

“Y-Yeah,” says Makoto, not laughing at the pun.

Nagito studies his prosthetic fingers. His thumb wiggles. Then the index finger. When the middle finger sways, the ring and pinky fingers shadow its movement. He slowly balls a fist.

“Tsumiki-san has been very patient with me, getting used to it,” Nagito says. His eyes flit from his hand to the screen. Makoto’s mouth hangs open, but Makoto shuts it when they make eye contact.

The corners of Nagito’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help...” Makoto starts, only to trail off. Nagito beams.

“It’s greatly appreciated,” Nagito tells him. “From the former Super High School Level Hope, that means a lot. Thanks!”

Neither speak as they continue looking at each other. The room feels brighter now, like night had become morning. Makoto has that effect, on things, on people. Even a dim cabin on a ship, even a rotten person seated at a metallic desk, can be touched by it. Can feel it. 

As Nagito drinks in Makoto’s presence, traces over every line, every curve on his face, he could keep on digesting him for longer, but Makoto thaws first and squirms.

“So, um, is that everything?” asks Makoto, fidgeting. Nagito’s eyebrows raise.

“Hm?”

“You emailed me that you needed to ask me something important,” Makoto reminds him. “I assume - ”

“Oh.” Nagito flaps a hand. “Oh, no. No, no, no, Naegi-kun. I did email you, but that has nothing to do with what we just talked about.”

Makoto blinks. 

“I wanted to know if you’re free tomorrow night,” says Nagito. He speaks calmly, but his heart beats faster. “You know, on Christmas Eve. Hanamura-kun graciously offered to make my side of the meal, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come up with something on your end. It’s not the most conventional of dates, but that can’t be helped.”

One second passes. Then another.

“... Are you asking me on a date?” says Makoto, squinting.

Nagito frowns. “I mean, I did use that word, so yes.”

“I...” Makoto’s face reddens. “T-Tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Nagito nods. “Is that alright?”

“Y-Yes!” Makoto blurts, gripping the edge of his desk tightly. “I’d love you! To! I’d love to!”

Makoto looks ready to melt into his seat. His eyes flicker, absolutely flustered. Nagito takes pity on him.

“Well, thank you for taking some time out for little ol’ me,” he says, tipping his head forward, and Makoto jolts.

“It’s no problem!” Makoto says. The ends of his lips climb and he places a hand over his heart. “I like talking to you, Komaeda-kun. I like you... Ah, if we’re talking like this, then it should be ‘Nagito-kun’, right?”

Now it’s Nagito’s turn to warm, but he laughs and says, “Excellent! Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Goodbye, N... Makoto-kun.”

He ends the call just as Makoto opens his mouth. A black square appears where Makoto was, and where his face had been now hovers Nagito’s reflection. 

A moment later, Nagito hides his blushing face in his hands.


End file.
